Gratitude
by Clio S.S
Summary: An experiment on MasamunexKojuurou. I'm not sure myself if I'm satisfied with it; nevertheless, it is written now. Rated M, but still nothing graphic. Make me know if you liked it. Or, perhaps, better not - it could inspire me to write more on these two.


Tonight Kojūrō is surprised when Masamune, already strangely distracted throughout whole their normal evening conversation, drinks one or two cups of sake more than usually and then falls silent, as if he run out of subjects. Kojūrō must be wondering if it's not high time to wish good night and leave for the round of the estate, what belongs to his routine. And, indeed, Kojūrō gets up, not wanting to bother his lord any more - so Masamune rises as well and, for the first time this evening, looks his most faithful retainer into eyes, knowing there's only determination in his gaze.

"Kojūrō," he starts in his ordinary, slightly hoarse voice, that bears no hesitation, not now, and never. Although... you can't never be sure if Kojūrō won't hear something that cannot be heard. He almost smiles. "Kojūrō," he repeats, coming closer, as close as his honour and pride of a lord lets him to.

"Stay with me," he says simply, his tone almost emotionless. He doesn't want it to sound like an order. He doesn't want it to sound like a request. There are no orders and no requests between them. He wants it to be just like everything between them - always was and always will be - a natural understanding.

Kojūrō freezes; only his eyes get wider in the apparent astonishment. His hands move and then stop in the mid-air, as if he doesn't know what he actually wants to do with them. Masamune has never been a master in guessing people's emotions - at least, not as much as Kojūrō - yes he is able to see that his words have evoked a reaction. He is able, almost, to hear how Kojūrō's heart has started to beat faster.

He knows it takes more - but only a bit more - for Kojūrō to follow him, just like he follows him always, although now isn't like always. So he draws nearer, half of step nearer, as it's still allowed, and touches his friend's face. Kojūrō trembles under his fingers barely noticeably, while Masamune marvels at the fact the touch can be so pleasant.

"Masa...mune-sama...?"

The Lord of Ōshū takes him by a hand and leads the way. Kojūrō doesn't resist - and Masamune knows the man follows him on his own free will, which fills him with warmth and the certainty.

* * *

It was Sanada Yukimura who made Date Masamune understand - even if it's so strange as it sounds. Sanada Yukimura - the first man to make the One-Eyed Dragon of Ōshū blaze with a fire unknown before; the first man to make Date Masamune's gaze fill with flame absent before. It didn't take long for Masamune to realize that such a flame had been always flickering in Kojūrō's eyes.

Of course, Kojūrō has never given him to understand that - not with a word neither with any other sign.

What Masamune is doing now is the only thing he can do as a samurai who has some honour. He cannot do otherwise without bringing disgrace on himself. On the same time, he isn't doing it for himself - as he knows already what it means to desire something and have no idea if you obtain it one day or not. That's why.

Not out of pity.

Out of gratitude.

As long as he can remember, Kojūrō has always been by his side. You could tell a story of it, but Date Masamune is a man of concretes. Kojūrō would give his life for him - and this one thing is enough to define the depth of their relationship. What defines its breadth is the fact that had it been not for Kojūrō, Date Masamune would have never become a man he is now.

Masamune dreams of Sanada Yukimura's honest eyes, of his open face and soft hair, that has a colour of autumn brown, winnowed on the wind. Perhaps, one day, he will embrace his dream; despite what it seems, he can patiently wait.

But no-one is able to grasp the wind, and fire can by frozen for a while only. With an icy breath, you can make it subside and turn into something nicely warm, not burning - but soon the flame will burst again, this time twice as strong. It's but a split second for the fulfilled dream to last - the next moment it's already gone.

Kojūrō is like a stone. He has always been, and Masamune believes he will always be. Wherever is Masamune, everywhere around is Kojūrō as well. Katakura Kojūrō is the biggest compliment of Date Masamune - but Masamune is humble enough not to take obvious things for granted.

He may be a ruler of the whole northern Hi-no-moto, having an army on his orders and folk under his reign - but towards Kojūrō he is, first and foremost, a man filled with respect.

* * *

He throws off his yukata, his hand trembling out only due to excitement, right? After all, the One-Eyed Dragon knows best that Katakura Kojūrō stands for his safety, regardless of the situation.

A funny thought occurs to him, so he looks over his shoulder with a crooked smile. "I've always told you have my back," he speaks with his typical irony, then falls silent and motionless.

Kojūrō lets out a quiet sigh, then comes near and embraces him with trembling arms, pressing him closer. Masamune can feel - and has no doubt - that Kojūrō really desires him as much as he himself wishes for sinking into the autumn conflagration of Sanada Yukimura. Simultaneously, he is surprised with himself for having never realized it before - apparently, he has a long way to go before he equals Kojūrō in the matter of perspicacity.

He falls to his knees, pulling Kojūrō with him. He won't think of Sanada Yukimura, even if he wants. This night doesn't belong to the warrior of Kai - he can sleep peacefully with someone else haunting his dreams this time. Masamune realizes, though, that it's hard for him to keep his cool, be it for his thoughts of Yukimura or the presence of Kojūrō, who has never been so close before. He waits patiently for Kojūrō to deal with his clothing, suddenly feeling strange after Kojūrō's hands have disappeared from his skin. He tries to calm his breathing down and fails completely. He hears Kojūrō take a deep breath behind his back and he knows they are both ready.

What happens next bears no special subtlety - but no-one needs it here anyway. It can be of use when you're viewing sakura blooming, for example, which stands for the quintessence of calmness. In the scenery of passion it's the opposite, almost like on battlefield: fast, hard and firm.

Kojūrō firmly seizes his hips and enters him with no ceremony. Masamune let his head and eyelids drop. The room is hot already - their bodies produce enough heat, and the blood rushing into vessels doesn't help anything. Soon, his forehead is beaded with sweat, and damp hair falls by his face. All of this may last for a mere second or an eternity - he can't tell any more. What he can tell is that the world has indeed changed for a moment.

Kojūrō isn't able to control his lust and slides deeper in the fast thrusts. Masamune falls onto his elbows, wincing, although the pain isn't really the pain, and the thought that tomorrow he will give the stables a wide berth makes the grimace turn into crooked smile. Then he realizes, perhaps with his intuition, how great pleasure - happiness? - he can give to Kojūrō. This thought makes his smile soften.

Kojūrō keeps saying his name, and Masamune hears it and feels it, and is under the impression that never before has it resounded with such a faithfulness, although it always resounds with the faithfulness when spoken by Kojūrō.

"Masamune-sa... aaa... aaaa..."

"Kojūrō," he whispers back and realizes his tone is different as well, softer and warmer.

The warmness fills his insides - literally and metaphorically - yet he manages not to miss the sensation caused by two hot drops that splatter on the skin of his back. He opens his eyes wide as he realizes that he hasn't yet - and he may never - grasped the real depth of Kojūrō's feelings. For a moment, he thinks he may not even deserve it at all when his own feelings are so simple, concrete and unsophisticated.

When Kojūrō slides out of him, Masamune rolls over his back and hugs Kojūrō's head, putting it onto his chest, and slides the fingers into his hair, now as damp and tangled as his own.

And suddenly it occurs to him that either he isn't as tough and icy One-Eyed Dragon as he thought or feeling the affection has nothing to do with the man pride after all.

Kojūrō is lying on his chest and tries to calm his breath down. Masamune hugs him tight, happy for having been able to return, even if only a bit, everything he gets from Kojūrō - either consciously or unaware. It's ridiculous how little a lord is able to give his retainer...

This time he falls asleep in the real warmth of another man, not the ephemeral dream of a flame, and aware that, if Kojūrō allows him, he will try to show all the gratitude he bears.

Even if it takes him the whole life.


End file.
